You make me sick
Man I feel terrible. This flu is catching everyone off guard. Speaking of, I should be paying attention. I sniffed as I looked around the graveyard. "Seems like a quiet night." I sighed to myself.
Snap.
I whipped around, stake in hand and ready to plunge. It was Angel. Standing there in the bright moonlight looking amused as he often did nowadays. God, he doesn't know how hard it is just to see him. I froze.
"Not going to kill me?" He asked smugly, pulling me from my thoughts.
"I have the flu, I'm not feeling up to it." I snubbed.
"Well then, you know it wouldn't be fair if I went easy on ya." He smirked. Angel threw the first punch and I deflected it readily. He punched left and right, all the while I dodged them. "C'mon Buff, you're not even playing offensive. That's no fun." He gave a small laugh.
I flipped back. "Sorry to disappoint you. I'll try harder." I give a quick hard kick and sent him back.
"That's more like it." He smiled as he got back into the fight.
I started drifting in my thoughts, as reflex and instinct took over. It had been so long since I've just gazed into his once warm eyes. Now they're empty, filled with nothingness. It's been hell to fight the one person you love the most. The one person you want to just run away with. He has no idea what he's doing to me. He hit me hard in the face; I fell strait onto my back with a yelp.
"You're not yourself tonight Buffy." He crept up to me. "So sorry to see you fall. But," He raised his arms. "Just makes it all the more easier to kill you."
I was about to pounce up, but a moment too late, and he pinned me down. I struggled against his tight grasp. His hands dug hard into my arms. My eyes widened with fear as I looked into the dark abyss of his eyes. Help. Someone. Xander, Willow, Giles, will somebody come? My heart quickened.
"What's the matter Buffy, scared to die?" He taunted.
I bit down. I wanted the tears to come, come screaming down my face, but I couldn't let them. I wouldn't let him see what he did to me; I would not give him that satisfaction. "You make me sick." I spat.
"Is that so? Well there's only one cure for that illness my dear." He started to lean down. This is it. I can't do this. I tightly closed my eyes and gave up the struggle. He stopped. "No fight?" He questioned.
I opened my eyes to stare up into the shell of the man I loved. "I can't fight you anymore." The words came slow and hard, as did the betrayal of tears. I'm sorry.
Something changed. I saw a glint of something in those piercing eyes. He let go of me and slowly stood up. A wave of dizziness came over me. My vision blurred and darkened. The last thing I saw was Angel; the man I loved, walking away.